The Change
by John Reed
Summary: AU - no vampires, just a fantasy romance. Elena is an actress in her early 20s who works with and is dating Stefan. Damon is older. They are worlds apart, but start having memories of each other, and try to figure it all out. This is my rebellion against the TV messing with Elena in Season 5, episode 12ish. I'm ticked, so I'm doing this...
1. First Glimpse

First Glimpse

For Elena, it started (this time, at least) in a trailer.

It wasn't even her trailer, it was his – her co-star's - trailer.

The dark-haired actress had been with him in his trailer for a few minutes, taking a short break. Elena was alone now, Stefan having been due on set a few minutes ago. She wasn't due to join him for nearly an hour. She decided to stay, to lie down and let her eyes close as she mentally rehearsed the scene that was coming up.

She wasn't really tired, but she found her mind drifting. She tried to concentrate, but found that she couldn't concentrate on anything in particular. She was awake, she was sure of that; so she knew that the impressions entering her mind were not dreams. They were memories. Happy memories - parties and dates, family and friends.

They were memories, but none lasted long before being replaced by another. Though they were fleeting, she recognized all of them. She recognized all of them at least, until she didn't.

It came suddenly and clearly. It was vivid, and it was real. And it was a memory, a memory of hers.

She was with friends, talking. They were younger than Elena, late teens, maybe, rather than early twenties. She knew their names immediately, she even recognized where she was – sitting on the grass in a churchyard. Somehow, she remembered what had led up to this moment – another friend had gotten married. She didn't have much of a role in the wedding, but she was at the ceremony. Now, after it was over, she was sitting on the grass with four other girls, chatting.

Her clothing was confusing. The skirt was so long, and the dress was so tight at her waist. She had worn this kind of thing before – something provided by wardrobe - period dress. Was she remembering a part she had played?

Then she realized the name her friends were calling her – Martha. Martha? Why would they call her that?

Elena thought hard, trying to remember if she had ever been 'Martha' in anything. She realized, as the memory played before her, that she hadn't. Still, as her conscious mind seemed to withdraw, she knew that Martha was her. She knew it as well as she knew anything. She remembered this incident. This was not a set. This was her life.

Even though she recognized the memory, she was unsure of what was coming next. She was surprised to see a man walked confidently, directly, to where she was sitting. Somehow she knew that he was coming to her, no one else. And she knew, or remembered, that this was their first meeting. At the same time, somehow she knew that this was just not done where she was. Men did not speak to women before a proper introduction had been made.

As Elena watched him approach, she realized that she knew him. Not that she knew his name, but somehow she was sure that she recognized him. And though her memory could not place him just then, she knew instinctively that she had nothing to fear from him. She could trust him, as much as she trusted her current suitor.

Suitor? She had a suitor? Maybe Stefan, but although they were dating, it hadn't progressed all that far. And did anyone use the term 'suitor' now anyway.

As this was running through her mind, Elena realized that her girlfriends, the girls who were sitting with her, were gasping. She knew instinctively that it was because she was being approached by a man who was a stranger here. She even saw a couple of the nearby local men watching as the she was approached, but she didn't want them to interfere with the newcomer. Really, by this time Elena was not sure if she was in control, or just watching. Whichever it was, her body responded to her thoughts. She managed to catch the eye of one the local men as she stood, and shook her head. Then she turned her attention to the newcomer.

She wasn't sure of her expression as he reached her, but she was afraid it showed something like shock. His appearance was so striking that she found herself taking in a quick breath. As her eyes rested on his, she could see that his face showed determination.

She was so quickly lost in his eyes that she was barely able wonder if the gasps of her friends were due this guy's 'rudeness' at being so forward towards her, or if they were as struck as she was by his hotness.

She was still wondering, still staring into his eyes, when his words startled her out of her thoughts.

"I remember," he said, speaking softly. "Now the choice is yours," he added, as if it should mean something to her. He handed her slip of paper, folded in half, and smiled. He looked like he was going to take another step towards her, which would have definitely brought him too close, but he stopped as she flinched slightly.

His smile disappeared, but he continued to look intensely into her eyes. His eyes were ice blue, much more intense than even Stefan's eyes, which had engulfed her so completely, so often.

His final words were so soft that she barely heard them. "Remember me, Sarah. Come to me."

He then nodded slightly, turned around and left. She seemed frozen in place, unable to follow, only able to stare as he walked out of sight.

She was still staring, when she heard what she would call tittering from her friends. Without breaking her stare, she was aware that three of the four friends with her were standing now, all staring the man's retreating figure.

One friend, somehow Elena knew the girl's name was Anne, asked, "Who was that?"

"Damon," Elena answered automatically, then realized that it was true. His name was Damon – or at least that was what she called him. Not that she could say how she knew this.

She realized she was still staring, though he was out of sight, when another of her friends asked, "What did he give you?"

Elena didn't look at whoever was speaking, she didn't even try to put a name with the voice. She just looked down to the folded piece of paper in her hand. She took a couple of breaths, then opened it carefully, aware that Anne, at least, would be trying to see the paper along with her.

She was confused again as she saw what was written. Although she was sure the man's name was Damon, she saw the name Charles Montrose written in crisp, beautiful cursive. It was only then that she realized that the man had called her by a different name – not Elena, or even Martha. He had called her Sarah.

"Richard is coming," someone said. Elena was suddenly flustered, though she didn't at first realize why. Without looking at the lines written below the man's name, she tried to think of a place she could hide the small piece of paper. While she was doing this, she realized that Richard was her current suitor; or Martha's current suitor, anyway.

She was starting to stress over the small slip of paper when suddenly, she opened her eyes.

The actress had to shake herself. She first tried to do it without closing her eyes, afraid the vision would return, but seeing the rapid movement of objects as she shook her head she quickly found herself sighing and closing her eyes anyway. As soon as they were open again she stood, trying to remember where she was and what she was doing. When her eyes found a clock, she realized that she was in Stefan's trailer, and that she still had 20 minutes before she was due on set.

She breathed a sigh of relief. She would need the time to get her mind back into character. She decided to leave immediately. She quickly found her purse, though she had to resist the urge to look inside for a small, folded piece of paper, and went through Stefan's trailer door.

But the memory remained with her. Vivid and clear, she found herself trying to place it as she walked. Was it from her work, a set of some kind? It didn't seem right, but what else could it be? She was sure it had happened. She wasn't sure of much else, but she was sure that the memory was real.


	2. Another First Glimpse

The Question

It was a couple of days before Elena realized she was obsessing over it – the dream or vision or memory. She was still not sure what to call it, but she couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Carly," she said into her phone, before she heard the alarm. She was too close to the set, and filming was about to start.

"What?" came the reply from her sister. When Elena didn't immediately respond, she heard "El?" from her phone.

"Shhh," Elena risked hissing into the phone as she walked. It was a minute or so before the actress decided she was far enough away from set to continue the discussion.

"OK, now we can talk," she said.

"About Charlie Montrose?" Carly asked dismissively.

"Charles," Elena corrected. "And no. I just needed to tell someone. I thought it could be you."

"Tell me about him, and then not let me talk about him?"

Elena sighed. "I don't know. It…it kind of bothers me."

"You had a bad dream…" Carly began.

"No," the actress interrupted. "I don't think it was a dream."

"So what do you think?" Carly asked. When Elena didn't immediately respond, she continued, "Message from your soul mate?"

Elena released a breath. "I don't know…"

"El, what are you doing? You already have what every girl wants."

"What do you mean?" the actress asked, genuinely confused.

"Stefan Salvatore! Do you know what I would give to have Stefan Salvatore?"

"You have Rick," Elena countered, still not quite sure of her sister's point.

"Yeah. I have Rick, and you have Stefan Salvatore. Surely you see the difference."

Elena finally understood. "I know, Carls. Stefan is handsome and…"

"And famous, probably rich. I'd give anything to have him."

"Even give up Rick?" Elena asked.

"Get Stefan to pop 'the question' to me. You'll see."

Elena sighed into her phone. "No one's getting married, Carls. Especially not me, not for awhile, anyway. And Stefan and I are fine, thank you very much."

"Marriage, kids. Trips to wherever he goes. I'm game, any time you want to dump him."

"Carls, please."

"Fine," Carly said. "So you two are good – marriage, kids, and what-not are all in your future."

"I still don't know about kids." Elena answered. She wasn't sure she wanted children, but it wasn't really something that she wanted to discuss with her sister. "And I'm not even thinking about marr…"

"I know." Carly interrupted. "I get it – you're fine with where you two are. And yet, you call me about some guy named Charlie."

"I didn't call about…"

"And, even though I listen carefully to everything you say, I'm not allowed to talk about him. Fine. Do you know what you need? You need a diary."

"Diary?"

"Diary," Carly confirmed emphatically. "You can tell it your every thought, and it won't try to give you valuable feedback."

"Diary," Elena repeated. "That's not a bad ide…" She cut herself off as she felt her phone vibrate. "Gotta go, Carls. Thanks."

"Sure. And if you want Stefan to pop the question to me…" Elena only heard it in the back of her mind as she was disconnecting and heading back to set.

* * *

><p><span>First Entry<span>

"My name is Elena Gilbert," Elena wrote. "I am 24 years old."

She had no idea how to start the diary she had purchased on her way home. She hadn't kept anything like a diary for years – nothing like this, anyway. She had a journal she kept, mostly it related to her acting. This was different.

'If nothing else,' she thought, 'maybe this will help the shrinks when I'm committed.'

"Something happened a couple of days ago," she wrote. "I don't know what it was, but maybe writing it down will get it off my mind."

Elena wasn't sure she believed that, but the memory (or whatever) was bothering her. Calling Carly hadn't helped, so she was willing to give this a shot.

* * *

><p><span>St Louis<span>

"I wish I could have seen more of what he wrote on the paper." She wrote this line, the last line in her diary entry, without much thought. As she closed the journal, turned out the light, and went to bed, she realized it was true. If she had more than a name, she could…

'I could what?' she thought as she moved to get herself comfortable. 'Find him? Confirm that he's real? What?'

She lay in bed wondering if writing just before trying to sleep had been such a good idea. Her eyes were closed, she was controlling her breathing, but she wasn't relaxing. Her mind was still obsessing over Charles Montrose.

It was then that the scene entered her mind. She wondered if she was dreaming, then realized that she would not be wondering that if she really was dreaming. She let the scene flow before her and tried to pay attention.

She was in a room she didn't recognize, but it had a bed and a dresser. Those were the things she noticed. Then she realized she was undressing – removing the dress she had been wearing in her earlier vision.

She found the folded slip of paper just under the too high neckline when it became loose enough for her to feel it. She wondered how she had managed to put it there, everything on the dress had seemed so tight before. Before doing anything else to remove the dress, she pulled the paper out and opened it.

She was, at first, fascinated by the beautiful script used to write the note. Then she forced herself to pay attention to the words.

"Charles Montrose

298 N. 2d

St. Louis

Remember the woods. You found me."

She watched herself as she moved to the dresser and slipped the small piece of paper into a drawer.

As she watched herself resume the removal of the dress, she realized that this was what she wanted – the rest of the words. She opened her eyes and looked into the dark of her bedroom – her modern bedroom. Though the memory was still clearly in her mind, she found it difficult to force herself to rise and open the diary again.

As she turned on the lamp over her small desk, she glanced at her alarm clock. It was nearly 3 AM. Hours had passed since she closed the diary.

Elena shook herself and opened the diary. "Charles Montrose," she wrote. Then she was able to write the rest without thinking. "298 N 2nd, St. Louis"

* * *

><p><span>Starbucks<span>

She was in makeup when she heard about it. One of the ladies was talking to another, and the subject of genealogy came up.

"I went to a website - yourlostanscetors, and found a ton of information."

That was all Elena heard, but it gave her an idea. She decided to try it as soon as she had a chance.

She had the chance when she and Stefan were in a Starbucks. Stefan was getting their drinks, she was saving a table for them, so she pulled out her laptop and logged in. She glanced at the line he was in after she had signed up for a free 30-day membership. He had just ordered.

She had no idea what to do, so she typed in the name "Charles Montrose" into a website general search engine, when she found something about the census. She was able to choose Missouri, but unsure of which census to check. Remembering the dress Martha had been wearing, she decided to try 1880.

She was stunned when an entry came up.

"Charles Montrose, Self, Married, Male White, 42, MO, Painter, MO, IL

Martha Montrose, Wife, Married, Female, White, 40, MO, Keeping House, MO, MO

James Montrose, Son, S, Male, White, 20. MO, Law Student, MO, MO

Eliza Montrose, Dau, S, Female, White, 18, House Keeping, MO, MO"

"Charles Montrose," Stefan said from behind her.

Elena jumped as she slammed her laptop closed.

"Sorry," Stefan began, setting her drink down next to her laptop.

"It's OK," she said quickly. "You just startled me."

"Who's Charles Montrose?" he asked as he set across from her.

"Ancestor," she quickly lied, or maybe it was the truth. "On my mother's side."

Stefan looked at her quizzically. "Since when do you look for your ancestors?"

Elena shrugged dismissively. "Just trying something new, seeing if it's interesting."

"Well, okay." Stefan said, not seeming to give it another thought. "Now about tomorrow…"

Elena turned her full attention to him, glad he didn't press her further.

* * *

><p><span>The Other First Glimpse<span>

"What's this?" David asked his oldest daughter. He was just passing through the living room where both of his daughters were curled up on the couch watching TV. David knew he had married young, he was 18. But he was in love, and it seemed to be the right thing to do. He was still in love, and having children right away had seemed to be the right thing to do as well. So now he had two daughters – ages 14 and 12.

"New show," the younger daughter answered.

"Oh," he answered. He continued staring at the TV. Something about the girl on the screen looked familiar. "Who's she?"

"Elena something," his older daughter answered. "But she's not why we watch."

David's eyes were still fixed on the screen. "Why do you watch?"

"Him!" one of the girls said as a guy appeared on the screen. "Stefan Salvatore!" both girls exclaimed together. Then one, David wasn't sure which, added dreamily, "I'm in love."

David's eyes remained on the screen as he said softly to himself, "Elena," trying to remember where he had seen her.

"Uh, yeah…" one of the girls said. The tone of her voice shocked him out of the trance. As he realized that both of his daughters were staring at him, he quickly muttered, "Okay, enjoy," as he left the room.

Still, he couldn't get the dark-haired Elena out of his mind. She was even in his thoughts as he lay in bed, trying to sleep. He was sure he had seen her before.

As he lay there, it hit him. Not the realization of who she was, but the dream, or vision. He was fully aware, sure he was not asleep, and though his eyes were closed, he could see clearly.

He had just dismounted from a horse and tied it loosely to a tree. David watched himself as he pulled out a small, folded piece of paper from an inside pocket of the jacket he wore. He looked at it and read, "Charles Montrose, 298 N. 2d, St. Louis, Remember the woods. You found me."

He kept the paper in his hand as he walked towards a nearby church. He soon realized that he wasn't walking towards the church, but towards a girl who was sitting on the grass. He didn't see her clearly at first, but as she noticed him, and seemed to rise to meet him, David recognized her.

Her beautiful, dark hair was arranged differently, and the dress she wore was really old-fashioned, but it was her. It was the actress his daughter had called "Elena".


	3. Another Glimpse

The Unhelpfulness

"Didn't you get a diary?" Carly asked Elena dismissively.

Elena sighed. She had been trying to talk to her sister about finding Charles Montrose in the census, but Carly wasn't being very helpful.

"Yes." Elena confirmed. "You know I did. I told you that."

"And you wrote about this in your diary?" Carly asked.

"Yes. I told you that as well."

"So why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because I don't know what to do," Elena admitted. "Because I'd like your thoughts on it."

Elena could hear the smirk in her sister's voice as she said, "You finally realized the valuable feedback I can provide…"

"Hey!" the actress interrupted. "I took your advice on the diary."

"And you want my advice now," Carly said, stating the obvious. "You won't like it."

"Give it to me anyway."

"Stefan Salvatore." Carly said.

Elena expected more, but no more was said. "What's that supposed to mean?" she finally asked, though she was afraid she already knew the answer.

"You have Stefan Salvatore," Carly said, repeating what she had said in their earlier conversation. "Stop looking to see who else is out there."

"I wasn't looking…"

"You said everything is fine with you and Stefan," Carly interruptd.

"It is," Elena said tersely into the phone. "This isn't about us. This is about the copy of the census page I sent you."

"The one with Charles Montrose," Carly said.

"And Martha."

"Who you think is you."

Elena shook her head. "I know it sounds stupid…"

"No," Carly interrupted. "Of course not. It sounds desperate. Are things with Stefan so bad that you have to invent a soul mate to go find?"

"Things aren't bad," Elena insisted. "and I'm not inventing anything. I'm asking your opinion about what it means."

"Well," Carly began, sounding like she was being thoughtful, "my opinion is that, if everything you have told me is true…"

"Of course it's true!" Elena interrupted, annoyed at Carly's demeaning tone. "Why would I lie about something like this?"

"Why indeed?" Carly said, still not sounding like she believed Elena. "But putting that aside, and taking it like it is true, it sounds like you're confused. Like you read or saw something about the guy and girl, and had a dream about them."

Elena shook her head. She had racked her brain, trying to find just such reference to them, she had even gone back through her journal to find if she had been in anything she might have forgotten that had characters with those names. She had checked every database she could think of to see if there was someone with those names in a movie or program she might had seen and then forgotten. She had found nothing.

She was finally realizing that Carly wasn't going to be helpful. As often as she had been able to talk to her sister about something, this wasn't going to work.

"That's what you think?" Elena finally asked.

"That's what it sounds like to me," Carly affirmed. "I told you that you wouldn't like it."

"OK, you're probably right," Elena said, trying to sound like she really was agreeing. She knew she was on her own with this. She changed the subject. "Anything new with Rick?"

"Well, yeah," Carly said, suddenly sounding much more animated. "I've been trying to call you…"

Elena tried to pay attention to her sister, but her mind was mostly trying to figure out what to do next about Charles Montrose.

* * *

><p><span>Second Glimpse<span>

Elena absently looked at her TV. She had received a new script and was glancing through it, skimming it and marking her lines. It was a habit of hers to do this before reading it more carefully.

This time, as she often did, she had a video with nature scenes and sounds playing. She found the sounds relaxing, and they didn't distract her from what she was reading or working on.

As she glanced up, she saw that there was a river scene playing on the TV. It was typical of the scenes in this type of video. She had seen something like this a number of times before, and had always been able to just look back down at what she was reading - without thinking, without being distracted. That was the point of the video - it was just supposed to be background sound.

This time, however, she couldn't pull her eyes away. The scene on the TV was a peaceful river scene – calm and relaxing, but she soon was seeing herself in turbulent waters. She saw herself trying desperately to hold onto something, she couldn't tell exactly what because her eyes were fixed on the shoreline. She was cold and soaking wet, and trying desperately to hold onto whatever she had as she tried to kick herself to shore at the same time.

"Let it go," a man said to her. She thought he had to be right next to her, though she couldn't see him.

She shook her head. "It's all I have." She could barely speak, she was swallowing water, breathing in water.

"It's caught on something," he said reasonably. His voice was clear, he didn't seem to be swallowing water like she was. "Was it tied down? You can't hold onto it. It'll pull you under with everything else."

"It's all I have," she repeated as she felt strong arms pull her towards him. She found herself suddenly looking into ice-blue eyes, eyes she recognized. Eyes Elena had seen had seen before. Elena knew that the girl in her vision recognized them as well.

"You'll be fine," he said gently, while tugging at her arm, the arm whose hand was trying to hold onto the item. "It's not worth it. You'll be fine."

"Damon?" the girl whispered as she released the item. Elena shuddered at the name from her previous vision. Maybe it was that the girl recognized him, maybe it was the gentleness of his words, but she suddenly realized she trusted him. Whatever the reason, the item was gone. She moved both hands to hold onto him tightly as he pulled her to the shore.

As they crawled onto the grassy shore, Elena noticed that it was still raining. She remembered that she, or the girl in the vision, had risked crossing the river, though it was higher than she was used to. She had tied a bag to some kind of a rigged floatation device, hoping to be able to pull it as she moved across, but the current was much stronger than she expected.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the man. "Who is Damon?" he asked.

Elena could feel her heart, or the heart of whoever she was seeing through, sink. He didn't know the name. She then remembered that she had left to find him, to go to him. She, the girl in the vision or whoever, had recognized the guy, made sure she knew where he was so that when she left her home, she could go to him. She had come to the barrier of the river, but had crossed it a number of times before and wasn't going to let the fact that it was higher than usual get in her way.

He was still staring at her. "You don't know?" Elena watched herself finally ask.

He shook his head.

She hesitantly asked, "Will you let me show you?" She wasn't sure how she appeared to him, other than soaking wet – a mess, really. Surely he could see no threat in her.

When he nodded, she was relieved. She rose and walked to where he was sitting. Elena, was confused by the clothing he was wearing. She thought it was old fashioned, more so than she had seen on Charles Montrose. The fact that his clothing was soaked with water made it even more difficult to see it clearly. He was also much younger than Charles Montrose, maybe his late teens, though she knew he was the same person.

But the girl in the vision wasn't paying much attention to his clothes. Though Elena could feel the rain and the cold, she realized that the vision was just unfolding before her. She could feel what the girl felt, knew what the girl was thinking, but could not affect it.

The girl walked towards the guy, and knelt next to him, putting her body very close to his. He didn't resist as she pulled up one of his hands, opened the palm, and placed it on her cheek. She held it in place with one hand, then placed the palm of her other hand on his cheek as she whispered, "close your eyes." The girl then closed her own eyes.

Elena heard him gasp at the same time as the flurry of visions and emotions engulfed her.

Elena gasped herself as she watched. He was there, over and over in different times and places. Always the same face, but different clothing, different ages, doing different things with her. Charles Montrose, or Damon, whoever he was.

The visions stopped as he dropped his hand from her cheek and pulled her into a tight hug, whispering, "It's you. It's really you."

Elena felt the comfort of his arms disappear as she opened her eyes. She was staring at the TV again, but the scene had changed. It was no longer a calm river, it was desert scene. It was peaceful, the sounds were the normal, soft sounds that came from the video.

Elena shivered. She didn't remember ever feeling so empty as she did just now, when he had slipped from her arms as the vision faded.

It took all of her willpower to rise and look for her diary.


	4. Turning Point

David could only watch as the scene unfolded before him. He was running as fast as he could under the circumstance, but he was pulling a woman along with him. He knew she was nowhere near as strong as she would normally be, but she was the reason he was here, so he wasn't going to leave her.

It was frustrating. He knew they had to get out of there as soon as possible. They were being pursued.

"I can't," she said as she fell to the ground, her hand falling from his. "I can't" she softly repeated.

His heart sank. It had been so hard to find her this time and didn't want to let her go. Plus, he knew they were close to being free.

He knelt down and looked into her brown eyes. "Please ," he whispered to her. "We're so close."

David knew those eyes - he had seen them before. They were the eyes he had seen when Charles Montrose gave a slip of paper to a woman in a courtyard. Somehow, David wasn't sure how, he also knew the woman behind them well enough to know what she would do, that she wouldn't give up so easily.

She stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded and pulled herself up. As they started running again, David tried to catch glimpses of the woman. It was hard since she was running beside him and he was looking forward. Though he knew to some extent what the person whose eyes he saw through was thinking, he had no control. He didn't know exactly what was coming next. He could only watch.

They ran towards trees, a forest really. Though he had a firm grip on her hand, he could feel that she was starting to resist him

"No!" She said, planting her feet in place and forcing him to stop if he did not want to lose or hand or drag her along. "Not in there."

"They won't follow," he assured.

"Because it's dangerous," she said. "No one goes in there."

"I go in there," he said. Then he turned to look into her eyes again. "We'll be fine. Trust me, Sarah."

'Sarah?' David was surprised. He had heard the name as Charles Montrose said it to the actress his daughter had called Elena. The woman didn't seem to know the name, though.

He tried to take a good look at her, though their eyes were locked. She did look like Elena, though she was thinner, and she had been hurt.

"You can't go back to them," He was saying, then he repeated, "Trust me."

"How can I, after…" David barely heard her. He wasn't sure if her voice dropped off, or if what she had said after was too soft to hear. He didn't understand everything going on, but he knew enough to know that she had been through an ordeal. And he could tell that trying to get her away from them, whoever they were running from, was making her weaker.

"You can trust me," he whispered, "you know you can". He glanced behind them, and decided they had time. He gently picked up her hand and placed it, palm open, against his cheek. Then while holding her hand in place, he placed his other hand, palm open, on her cheek. "You can trust me," he whispered as he closed his eyes.

She flinched a little at the same time David was hit by a wave of emotions and visions. He saw himself over and over, different ages and situations, but with her. It was always through his eyes, they were doing different things, he had different feelings, but it was always with her- with Sarah, or Elena.

He heard a sigh as the visions stopped and he felt her hand pull away from his face. "Damon," she whispered.

'Damon?' he wondered. That was not a name he knew.

He was wasn't sure if she was glad to see him or not, based on the expression her face wore as he opened his eyes. She looked a little pained, almost embarrassed. But she nodded, and whispered "Let's go."

He ran directly towards the trees as fast as he could while pulling her along. When they had entered and gone a few feet, he paused long enough to turn back and look for her pursuers. He saw a few figures some distance away. They had stopped, probably because he had entered the forest.

He turned and led the woman deeper in. She was upset, he could tell that, though he wasn't sure it if it was because of the fact that she had entered what she thought of as forbidden woods, or if there was some other reason.

It took another half hour to reach the small, temporary shelter he had built, then left a couple of days earlier. They wouldn't be staying, but it had a little food and a makeshift bed, though David thought that was stretching the term.

He motioned for her to sit on the bed. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded, eyes downcast. He handed her what looked to David like it could have been some kind of fruit, maybe a vegetable, though he didn't recognize it.

After giving her a few minutes, he said, "We have a little time, but we can't stay. The ones chasing you are afraid of the forest, but others of their kind aren't."

She still wouldn't meet her eyes, but nodded and whispered, "I know. You're right."

"Sarah?" He said softly, "I'll get you away. You know me, don't you? You remember now, don't you?"

She looked briefly into his eyes and nodded. "I remember enough." She was still whispering, but looked down again as she let out a breath. "I can't stand for you to see me like this…so weak."

He been standing a few feet away from her, but he took step towards her and dropped to his knees. "No! Not weak. We both know you didn't choose this. You survived it – you were strong, strong enough to stay alive until…"

David knew what he was thinking when he decided not to finish the statement. He was going to say 'until I found you' meaning she had survived until he found her. He cut it off because he knew she didn't really like being rescued. Sometimes she needed it, and he – the person who David was seeing through – needed it sometimes as well. But she wouldn't want to hear it.

Her voice broke as she asked "Can I rest? Maybe sleep a little?" At least she was looking into his eyes this time.

"Yes. You need it, and it will be dark before they can come back with someone willing to enter the woods. They'll have to wait until tomorrow. We'll leave before they get close."

She only nodded and laid down.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked. David was a little surprised by the question. He didn't feel cold, really, but didn't know if he should. He hadn't felt a variation in temperature in either vision.

She nodded, and may have been trying to smile – though it looked more like a grimace.

"Sleep, then. I'll wake you when it's time." David seemed to hear the unspoken 'my love' that was in his mind. He was still unsure enough of what she was thinking to say it. But she trusted him, David was sure of that. She immediately closed her eyes and looked like she quickly fell asleep.

David watched through the eyes of someone else until what little light had been in the shelter disappeared. It hadn't taken long for him to be sure. It was her, it was Sarah or Elena – whoever she was. He appearance was disheveled, her hair and clothing a mess, but it was her, and his heart ached to see her like this.

"David?" he heard from next to him.

As he opened his eyes into a familiar room, his living room, he saw her. Susan. His wife.

"Did you fall asleep?" she asked.

He shivered and shook himself. He had to shrug. He couldn't do anything else to respond just then.

"It's time to go to bed," she said, offering a hand to help him up. He took it and followed her, though his mind was still in some shelter in the woods somewhere, or maybe it was some time .

He had brushed off the first glimpse of Elena, had figured he had just seen her in a movie or on TV sometime in the past and had forgotten about it. But he realized he couldn't ignore it this time.

He had no idea of what he could or should do as he prepared to sleep, but he knew he was going to do something.


	5. The Connection

the Idea

It was just an idea, but it was all she had.

Elena had considered talking to Carly again, but decided not to. Her sister wasn't being any help at all. Not that Elena could blame her. Her thoughts sounded just as crazy in her own head as they apparently sounded to Carly. The actress understood her sister's reaction.

Still, she had to do something. The memory (or whatever it was) in the river forced her to the realization that she could not ignore what was happening, what she was remembering. Somehow she would have to get to the bottom of this.

She had options. Psychiatrist or psychic. A quick internet search convinced her she did not want to deal with either. Somehow, she came to believe, hypnosis would be involved, and she didn't trust anyone to do that to her. Even if she did, she didn't trust them not to plant something into her that wasn't there before. She had to do this on her own.

She also quickly discarded discussing this situation with Stefan. She still thought of their relationship as in its early stages, and although she was coming to trust him, she couldn't see sharing this with him. These weren't memories of Stefan, she was sure of that. And they were memories of the same person. She was sure of that, as well.

She could tell that Stefan was starting to see the effects of the memories in her behavior. She tried to hide it, but she was starting to slow things down. He hadn't said anything, but the looks he was giving her as she declined certain invitations from him were getting easier to see.

Elena decided that she had to resolve this. She couldn't keep treating Stefan like this, but she wasn't sure what else she could do until she solved the Charles Montrose issue (or the Damon issue – she still wasn't sure what to call it.)

She continued to write in her journal, to open up completely. Occasionally she went back and read what she had written. It was one of these times that she got an idea.

"If I could just find out how Charles found Martha," Elena wrote, "I could tell what I need to do next."

She closed the diary, turned out the light, and went to bed. As it happened so often, she had written just before bedtime.

She knew it would have been hard to get to sleep anyway this time. She had gone to be earlier than usual because she had an early call time. Still, she wanted to try the idea that had occurred to her as she worked her diary.

She lay in bed and thought of Charles Montrose, of how she wanted to know how he had found Martha. She remembered that just wanting to see more of the note he had passed to Martha in the memory had caused her to see it in a dream or vision or whatever. So she tried to make that happen again, just at a different point in their story.

'Charles and Martha,' she thought, reliving the initial incident on the grass near the church, recalling the finding of his note to her as she began to remove the dress she had been wearing. 'What did you do next? What did I do next?'

Elena had no idea how long she had been lying there when the impressions came. She felt the same impression, saw the same images as she had when she knelt beside the guy who had pulled her from the river. It shocked her, so much that she automatically pulled back.

As she opened her eyes, he was there – Charles Montrose.

She was as quickly lost in his eyes as she had been as she faced him on the grass at the church. She couldn't move or speak, she just stared.

"Do you see?" he asked her gently. She knew she had just moved away from him, just broken their connection.

She felt herself grimace a little as she nodded.

She moved her eyes and sat back. They were on a couch or sofa. They were sitting next to each other. She had been nervous from the moment she had allowed him to enter her home. She wasn't sure why she had done it, she certainly would not have allowed any other man to enter while she was home alone – not even Richard. She had done it though.

She looked back at him now. He was just looking at her expectantly. He seemed to think it was her turn to do or say something.

Elena wasn't sure if she was in control – probably not, but the question she had in mind was asked.

"How did you find me?"

He looked a little confused as he said, "You sent me your address."

She shook her head and clarified, "At first. How did you find me at first, at the church?"

He looked like he understood now. "It was my turn," he said. "As you remember more, you'll understand. We both have memories, and…" He paused for a second before adding "You have been having some memories, haven't you? It's the reason you responded to me, isn't it?"

Elena (or Martha) held his eyes and nodded. "I'm not sure what they are – dreams, maybe. They didn't start until you came to me at the church, but I knew that I knew you when I saw you there. I recognized you then, but I wasn't sure from where, I couldn't remember. I didn't remember until now."

He nodded. "I thought you might not have known me. In the past, we both have had memories, but one of us has more. One remembers barely enough to recognize the other, but one of us is able to find the other. I was able to find you."

He was still being very formal, but she could feel herself relaxing a little. She was nowhere near throwing her arms around him, but she was starting to believe him, to understand. She was starting to remember.

"One of us can find the other," she repeated as she looked away. Elena could feel the turmoil that Martha felt. This would change everything in her life. "How did you find me?"

"You came to St. Louis," He said. Then he looked a little embarrassed. "I saw you and you looked familiar, I knew I had seen you in my thoughts or dreams. I was able to inquire after you at the stationer you visited. After a few other inquires, I learned where you lived and that a ceremony that everyone in town was invited to was soon to be held there. I thought you might attend, so I went."

Martha wasn't sure how she felt about being followed like that, but Elena was concentrating on what he said next.

"It's always different, you'll see when you remember more. Once we remember, the method for one to find the other always presents itself."

Elena wondered what it meant. Was it her 'turn', or his? The memories had started, her memories had started; but even if it was her turn, how could she find him?

"I know it's not easy," he was saying. "It never is – not for either of us. But I have made the choice – I found you. Now the choice is yours."

Elena barely heard him. She was suddenly awakened by her alarm, and opened her eyes into her dark bedroom.

It took a few moments for her to force herself to rise. She had long ago determined that she functioned better if she rose immediately and started her day, so she hadn't allowed herself much time to get ready before she had to leave. Still, she found the diary and wrote a few notes about what she dreamed (or remembered), before she started getting ready for her day.

* * *

><p><span>Fan Mail<span>

Elena found herself in her trailer with a half an hour before she had to return to work.

She had let it go for a few days, but the pile of fan mail she had dropped onto a table was begging for her attention. The show was popular among teens, and she was getting more than she was used to. The pile was growing.

She never knew how to approach this. She always felt she was giving too little time to reading them, but wasn't sure what she could do differently.

'Just grab one and read it,' she thought. 'Start and it will get easier.' She started, knowing her phone would tell her when she needed to stop and return to work.

She had her normal reactions as she read through the mail. The cards, letters and notes often brought a smile to her face, though occasionally she shook her head. She was about 2/3 of the way through the pile when she found a note that was very different from the others. It read:

"Charles Montrose

298 N. 2d

St. Louis

Remember the woods. You found me."

At the bottom of the note was a name and an email address.

Elena shivered as she examined the note. She couldn't exactly remember the handwriting of the note Charles had passed to Martha. Still, this note was written in similar, beautiful script.

She had no idea how long she had stared at the note when she was startled by the alarm on her phone. It was time to go. Elena didn't put this note into the pile of read mail that she would give to her assistant for a response, this note went into her purse.

She thought about the note for the rest of the day. She thought about how she could respond, or even if she should respond. By the time she arrived home, she had formulated her plan.

Before doing anything else, she plugged in her laptop and brought it to life. She was online quickly and in a few moments had set up a new email account. She sent a test message from one of her other accounts to the new one, then when she was satisfied that it worked, she set up her phone so she could use the new account there.

She took a picture of the note with her phone, and emailed it to her new account. Then, using her laptop, she opened her new account and opened the email with the picture attached. She pushed the forward button, telling it to send to the address at the bottom of the note. Then she typed one word in the body of the email, leaving the picture attached, and pushed the send button.

"Damon?"


End file.
